#cg
The average person knows between 20,000 and 30,000 words.
~ and for Senor CG~
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*infinite then the multiplicity of combinations,
and yet we use so few,
and the comforting ones,
we repeat unconsciously
for they apparently applicable
to the boo/hoo/who in Who Me?*
*messing about in poetry,
an excuse to betray ourselves
to a greater audience with
hints and provenances,
secret’s subtle
could mean
trouble*
*I have revealed more than
I could believe ~
not the drabfactoids
but the insights*
*that flesh my self~sketches,
you could ask me anything,
my answer simple and
insane~same!*
*if you explicitly explain
there is no fun in that,
but the clues writ large,
answering questions you
didn’t know to ask*
plenty to hide, some too
well disguised
*but the hints are clear enough,
to make sure you’re
asking the correct ones*
so,
sorry apology
Senor Carlo
the doorknob to my spotlight clearly
visible
in the portrait of my preposterous
multi~nefarious words*
*no great reveal
no screaming squeal
for you to decrypt
still requires an
inning of
excavation digging,
for it’s in the over thousands of
psalms and prayers
and a few layabout
poems
who/hoo,
too*
(wink)
Dec 20, 2024
Dec 20, 2024 at 12:49 PM UTC
behind monochrome layers of fog,
clouds,
ice,
are beauties of the natural world.
long forgotten and taken for granted,
a variety of reds,
blues,
yellows pile up.
our spectrum -
our prism of crystal glimmers -
fill up our everything.
now,
fading away in my remembrance,
remains nothing but a sheer shine,
a dazzling imagination
filled with extraordinary visions,
replacing the wonderland
outside of it.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 9:15 PM UTC
Pain.
Everywhere.
In my head,
And in my heart.
Exploding against my consciousness,
It ***** the energy out of me,
As I sob and cry,
As I draw out my knife,
Prepared to die.
I would do anything,
Just to end my pain.
This misery,
This torture,
It kills me,
Inside and out.
It's time to end,
The pain I hid well.
So I'm going back home,
Back home to hell.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC
Life,
So full of joy.
Happiness made to be unbearable,
Laughing with friends,
Wishing everything could stay this way.
Suddenly you meet a person,
That changes your world.
Then you think that it's the one,
The one that was meant to be.
And that's where your hell begins
All you see then,
Is blurry but blood red anger.
Your mouth continues shouting,
Though your eyes are tearing.
Your voice comes out painful and sharp,
And yet it still shakes.
You think it'll be okay,
Then your friends begin backstabbing.
Mocking you,
Pulling you apart,
Bit by bit,
You slowly lose yourself.
Your family, you think,
Will probably listen.
But they have no patience for you,
No time to spare for you.
You fall into emptiness,
A void of only darkness
No longer do you see the sun as joy
But you glare back at it
Brown orbs turned red,
Filled with pure hatred.
You think to yourself,
Nothing in this world is good
You forget your personality,
Your character,
Your everything,
And soon,
You lose yourself.
Slipping away from all consciousness,
Then suddenly,
Gone.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
In the world, conflicts are strong
In this world, there's so much that's wrong
In our world, no one is giving
And in my world, nothing is living
My world is plain,
A simple black and white
All is monotonous with disdain
And then you came into my sight
My world burst with life
Rainbows and no strife
All my wishes were coming true
All of this because of you
We journeyed together
Continuing with our lives
Unaware of what awaited us
On the other side
The moonlight shone bright
And though the stars were dim
I could see what reality did to you
In that pool of red you laid in
Your hands were cold
Clutched to the blade that pierced our souls
For you were leaving this world of colour
Bringing it back into darkness but now with three colours
Black
The colour of my sorrow
My soul could no longer stay pure
There's nothing left to live for
Because I had lost my light
It is a chore
A curse, a suffering
I want to end it all with the very same blade
But I know you would want me to stay strong
White
When I go back in time
Thinking about summertime
When we danced with joy and laughter in our eyes
As our lips clash, knowing that you're there will suffice
For meeting you in dreams
Whenever I manage to escape from reality
I run to you, arms wide open
But my arms close into empty space
Red
Like all the light,
There are also darkness
Like the nights that I cry in my sleep
Awaking to the smell and feel of blood
My arms are sticky and my eyes are red
Bloodshot, exhausted and depressed all over again
Every day, I go through this grief
Now I hold my weapon, trembling beyond belief
I'm sorry for disobeying your final wish
That I wouldn't take my own life
But now listen to my death wish
There is no longer any point in life
Because with your soul leaving this godforsaken world
You took my heart and my spirit
Along with my world.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
Back then, everything seemed simple
Always smiling, with that little dimple
Never were we sad, but rather the other
Being as close as sisters and brothers
Then everything changed, when I was pulled away
Forced to change, to leave, to go astray
I wanted to be with you guys, entering our future together
But my parents thought that this change of schools would be for the better
At first, we continued chatting nonstop
Our bonds were still going strong without a stop
But then suddenly, we were too busy to talk
And thus our friendship ended, quite much as a shock
I only wish that one day
We would again be together always
I will go to see you guys one day, soon
I swear this on the light of the moon
10 years later
I walk up to the dorm where I knew you guys were staying
And although one would not know it, I was silently praying
I open the door, to find no one in sight
But what really scared me, was that the place was dark as night
Dusty, as if no one had been there for years
I walk around warily, all eyes and ears
I saw a picture, of all of us from back then
Next to it was a scribble, with a paper and a pen
It had an address, so I assumed they had shifted
I walked my way there, but the place was restricted
To dark to see what the name of it said
So I thought all was good and would come back the next day instead
I came back, only to be stopped at a halt
My eyes became wet with tears that tasted like salt
I walked inside the compound, slowly until I found it
Their names written on tombstones, and thus, I fell, deep into a pit.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 6:38 AM UTC
The "ifs" are all racing across my mind
It's all I can see, I'm walking 'round blind
I can only wish that I went back to then
To the past, and to where it had all began.
I remember
I remember having my teacher punish me every day
But it didn't matter, we would all be there silently going "heyy"
We'd do everything together, distance big or small
We'd always beg our parents to let us go out to the mall
Relaxing, having fun, all seems so far away
Now that reality's sunk in, all our joy is now delayed
Who knows for how long, now that we've stopped talking
I never expected it to end this way, it is beyond shocking
I try to move on, to try and make new friends
But then after a week or so, I was met with all dead ends
No one would talk to me, the way you guys did
So I sought you out, but of course, God forbid
Happiness is now a dream that's never meant to come true
I don't even have enough friends for a table of two
One would be empty, filled with thorns and vines
With no one willing to risk treading on this field with mines
I may always seem open, but I hide my feelings deep
Because I never want to be again, the one and only black sheep
The differences become wide, people start drifting again
But friends aren't the only things of which that I abstain
It's not the food I miss, just the sharing of it
We switched all the time, emptying the containers bit by bit
Laughing and talking with our mouth wide open with food
But it didn't matter, all that did was that our lives were good
I also miss, the bonds that we shared
So close, with our weird antics that people had often stared
I remember the crazy stunts we once did
Holding hands laughing, gigling, annoying that one kid
Now I'm all lost I don't know where to go
With no goal in mind, not without the flow
I've got no reason, to keep going on this way
"So maybe it'll finally end," I think, as I start a new day
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
They say that when you close your eyes
You envision the most delightful of things
Like roses in the park, or even your wishes and dreams
No one said that you would see the most painful of things
When I close my eyes, I see nothing but darkness
I see deaths and drugs, tasting blood on my tongue
My friends are with me, but it is them that's suffering
They are the ones that die, that are narcotic and steal
Why can't it be me that does these things?
To watch and not be able to help, it kills me even when conscious
I awaken to the coppery taste still on my mouth, unable to wash it away
So think again when you hear people say
Dreams are wonderful and I would love to relive them again
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
"I'm sorry"
You repeat this phrase
Over and over again
Any time, any day
Till there's nothing left to gain
"I'm sorry"
You say this
As you twirl the knife in your hand
Is there something amiss?
Or are you doing it because you can?
"I'm sorry"
You whisper in my ear
And bring the weapon down
I scream, my eyes filled with fear
But you remain silent, without a sound
Because you're already gone.
I'd give anything to hear you say I'm sorry again
Even my heart, so yours can once more begin
It's beating sound, calming to the ears
But no more, as my face stream with tears
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 4:01 AM UTC
Life
So beautiful
So perfect
The painful times come and go
But for now, it is perfect
Pristine and joyful are my days
Now I worry not
For my pain has been taken away
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
This is on a bus back from camp. I’m thirteen and so are you. Before I left for camp I imagined it would be me and three or four other dudes I hadn’t met yet, running around all summer, getting into trouble. It turned out it would be me and just one girl. That’s you. And we’re still at camp as long as we’re on the bus and not at the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us. We’re still wearing our orange camp t-shirts. We still smell like pineneedles. I like you and you like me and I more-than-like you, but I don’t know if you do or don’t more-than-like me. You’ve never said, so I haven’t been saying anything all summer, content to enjoy the small miracle of a girl choosing to talk to me and choosing to do so again the next day and so on. A girl who’s smart and funny and who, if I say something dumb for a laugh, is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh, but who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way I could never be. A girl who reads books that no one’s assigned to her, whose curly brown hair has a line running through it from where she put a tie to hold it up while it was still wet.
Back in the real world we don’t go to the same school, and unless one of our families moves to a dramatically different neighborhood, we won’t go to the same high school. So, this is kind of it for us. Unless I say something. And it might especially be it for us if I actually do say something. The sun’s gone down and the bus is quiet. A lot of kids are asleep. We’re talking in whispers about a tree we saw at a rest stop that looks like a kid we know. And then I’m like, “Can I tell you something?” And all of a sudden I’m telling you. And I keep telling you and it all comes out of me and it keeps coming and your face is there and gone and there and gone as we pass underneath the orange lamps that line the sides of the highway. And there’s no expression on it. And I think just after a point I’m just talking to lengthen the time where we live in a world where you haven’t said “yes” or “no” yet. And regrettably I end up using the word “destiny.” I don’t remember in what context. Doesn’t really matter. Before long I’m out of stuff to say and you smile and say, “okay.” I don’t know exactly what you mean by it, but it seems vaguely positive and I would leave in order not to spoil the moment, but there’s nowhere to go because we’re are on a bus. So I pretend like I’m asleep and before long, I really am.
I wake up, the bus isn’t moving anymore. The domed lights that line the center aisle are all on. I turn and you’re not there. Then again a lot of kids aren’t in their seats anymore. We’re parked at the pick-up point, which is in the parking lot of a Methodist church. The bus is half empty. You might be in your dad’s car by now, your bags and things piled high in the trunk. The girls in the back of the bus are shrieking and laughing and taking their sweet time disembarking as I swing my legs out into the aisle to get up off the bus, just as one of them reaches my row. It used to be our row, on our way off. It’s Michelle, a girl who got suspended from third grade for a week after throwing rocks at my head. Adolescence is doing her a ton of favors body-wise. She stops and looks down at me. And her head is blasted from behind by the dome light, so I can’t really see her face, but I can see her smile. And she says one word: “destiny.” Then her and the girls clogging the aisles behind her all laugh and then she turns and leads them off the bus. I didn’t know you were friends with them.
I find my dad in the parking lot. He drives me back to our house and camp is over. So is summer, even though there’s two weeks until school starts. This isn’t a story about how girls are evil or how love is bad, this is a story about how I learned something and I’m not saying this thing is true or not, I’m just saying it’s what I learned. I told you something. It was just for you and you told everybody. So I learned cut out the middle man, make it all for everybody, always. Everybody can’t turn around and tell everybody, everybody already knows, I told them. But this means there isn’t a place in my life for you or someone like you. Is it sad? Sure. But it’s a sadness I chose. I wish I could say this was a story about how I got on the bus a boy and got off a man more cynical, hardened, and mature and **** But that’s not true. The truth is I got on the bus a boy. And I never got off the bus.
I still haven't.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC